Call on me, Sister!

>> Late Nite Catechism turns critics into teacher's pets

by AMY BARRATT

Last Thursday night I took a catechism class. Friday morning I had a laughter hangover.

Late Nite Catechism, part of the Just for Laughs Festival and playing at Centaur Theatre through next Sunday night, had been so hyped in the weeks before it opened that I entered the theatre with something akin to dread. On the one hand, it had received rave reviews in Chicago, where it's in its eighth straight season, as well as New York and L.A. and as far away as Australia. On the other hand, a clip on TV showed the nun teaching the supposed adult catechism class, delivering the following groaner:

"Sister Mary Bernard is so old, I'm pretty sure she was a waitress at the last supper!" Quick, somebody give me a ba-doom, chhh.

Although a handful of these tired comic clichés are sprinkled throughout the text, they are not what it--or the actress performing it solo--relies on for laughs. The humour of the piece comes out of Maripat Donovan's portrayal of an old-style teaching nun and, to an extent, from the audience's recognition of that character, known only as "Sister." I want to call her ballsy but feared she'd come after me with the ruler. (Actually, as Sister explains, in a tone tinged with regret, nuns don't whack kids with rulers anymore because they know they'd get slapped with lawsuits in return.)

In this case, the publicity for the show told the truth: you don't have to be Catholic to pee yourself laughing. Maybe that's because, although the material she's teaching may be foreign, the dynamic between teacher and student is pretty universal. We've all at some point had a teacher who was strict and intimidating but whom we secretly loved because at least she was consistent.

Donovan, who co-wrote the piece with Vicki Quade, is the soul of the show. Although to date there are 13 touring companies performing Late Nite Catechism across the States, I find it hard to believe that any other actress could inhabit (ba-doom, chhh) the role as completely as Donovan.

The show is performed with house lights up and requires tons of audience participation. Opening night, the house heavily padded with jaded critics and other media types, I expected Donovan to have an uphill battle on her hands. Wrong! Part of the magic of this show is how, far from making you sink down in your chair and try to disappear, it actually makes you want to participate. Late Nite Catechism brought out the teacher's pet in some of the most unlikely characters.

The hilarity does slow down after intermission, but by this time the audience is so in love with Donovan that it doesn't matter. Though there is lots of improv in the first act, it nevertheless follows a structure. In contrast, the second act is almost entirely devoted to taking questions from the audience. Like all great comics, Donovan has a snappy comeback for all occasions, with the extra twist that she never contradicts church dogma.

By the time you read this, Late Nite Catechism may be booked solid through the end of the run. Plead, con, or bribe your way in. You won't be disappointed. :

Late Nite Catechism held over to Sunday, July 30 at Centaur Theatre;
Tuesday-Sunday 8pm,
weekend matinées 4pm; $36.81,
Info: 288-3161